Vignettes of Steele: Sophia
by RSteele82
Summary: (The Vignette Series) An addition to the Canon Series. Follows Sophia as she grows up. Short (1500 words or less each 'chapter'), sometimes funny, sometimes poignant, glimpses into the childhood of Laura and Remington's eldest child.
1. January 1991 - 3 years old

**_/N: A holiday gift for my readers. Thank you for your ongoing support and encouragement._**

 _ **Over the years I have been writing RS fanfiction, there have been many 'little moments' - poignant, serious, lighthearted or simply funny - that have traipsed through my mind. While these little scenes fit within the canon series, there has been no way to legitimately weave them into the current tale.**_

 _ **The Vignettes of Steele Series follow the Steele children as they grow. Thus, as we know now (November 2017), there are three different 'books' in this series:**_

 _ **Vignettes of Steele: Olivia**_  
 _ **Vignettes of Steele: Sophia**_  
 _ **Vignettes of Steele: Holt**_

 _ **Each chapter of these stories is 1500 words or less: Brief and hopefully enjoyable.**_

 _ **From 11/20 until 12/31/17 I will be adding a Vignette story every day or two. After that, as they strike me.**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **And far more importantly - I hope this holiday season finds you each happy and well, and will provide you many happy memories for the years ahead.**_

 _ **RSteele82**_

* * *

 _January 1991 – Three-years-old_

Olivia looked up from where she was playing by herself, to see Laura carrying a child out onto the terrace. Tilting her head in curiosity, she watched as Melina took the other little girl into her arms and sat down with her on a chaise. Curiosity piqued by the presence of another child so close to her age, she skipped across the patio to reach out and tug the little girl's foot.

"Do you wanna play?" Her brow creased when her invite was met with a shake of a head and the other child turning away from her and to Melina. "Why not?"

"Give her a moment, paidi mou," Lina advised, giving a lock of Olivia's hair a fond tug. "Our new friend seems a bit out of sorts."

"Is she sad?" Olivia asked with a tilt of her head. Lina did a mental assessment of the child: the tears wetting her neck and the way she tremored.

"Nai, I believe she is," she confirmed. "And perhaps a bit scared." The thought troubled Olivia, and she scrambled up on chaise to sit on Melina's other side.

"When I'm ascared my Mommy sings to me. Want me to—"

"I… want… my… Mommy," the other little girl keened between sudden, gulping sobs. Melina's arms tightened further around the child, and she clucked against her ear as she rocked her, never noticing when her niece's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes welled.

Across the terrace, all eyes were drawn to the scene playing out on the chaise. Seeing her niece's shoulders and back beginning to heave, Frances stood and rushed across the pavered ground, reaching the chaise as Olivia's first wail broke free. Picking her up, Frances sat down at the end of the chaise, and embraced her closely, while giving Lina a questioning look.

"Livvie, what's wrong, baby?" Frances crooned.

"I maded her cry," Olivia sobbed, while pointing to the other child.

"I do not believe this to be true, Olivia," Lina disagreed, softly.

"Of course, it's not!" Frances agreed emphatically. "Livvie would never do anything that would make someone cry!" Soothing her hands over her little niece's hair, she made an executive decision. Wrapping an arm snug around Olivia's waist, she stood with the raven haired little girl. "Why don't you and I go check on Laurie Beth?" she suggested aloud, thinking a little separation might allow both children to calm.

As a well-seasoned parent, Frances was correct. Distracted by Laurie Beth and her cousin's Barbies, Olivia's tears soon dried up, while on the chaise the unknown little girl eventually plopped a thumb into her mouth and drifted off to sleep. Carefully extracting herself from underneath the child, Lina covered her with a blanket then joined Frances at the nearby dining table where they speculated about who the child might be.

Sometime later, as the party wound down in wake of the guest of honor's absence, Monroe, Jocelyn and their children were preparing to leave and the two adults were saying their good evenings when Olivia slipped past the notice of the adults to go lean against the arm chair of the chaise and look down at the other little girl. The little blonde's green eyes fluttered open, as though aware she was being watched, and she began to suck vigorously on her thumb.

"What's your name?" Olivia asked. The other child blinked but said nary a word. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a huff of frustration, Livvie's brow furrowed, much as her mother's would. "My name's Olivia," she tried again. "I'm free." She held up three fingers. A pair of green eyes looked around the terrace, spied Lina, before they returned to Olivia.

"I'm Sophie," the other little girl whispered. Olivia climbed up on the chaise and lay down facing Sophie.

"Don't be ascared, Sophie," Livvie told her, just as quietly, reaching out to pat the other girl's arm. "I'll be your friend."

Sophie let out a shuddering breath around her thumb. On the worst of nights, when she'd never been more afraid in her short young life, she'd found a friend and felt a little bit safe.


	2. February 1991 - 3 years old

_February 1991 – Three years old_

Catherine left Sophia and Olivia in Thomas's more capable hands while she took care of what she viewed as an urgent matter. When she'd arrived back at Laura and Remington's Holmby Hills home nearly four hours later, Fred followed her through the front door carrying a half dozen bags, before he'd made a second trip to the limo to return with another load. Thomas merely graced his wife with a patient smile, knowing their credit card balance had just been delivered a serious blow. After all, who was he, in his mind's eye, to deny his wife such a simple pleasure?

"The children?" Catherine asked simply, as she brushed her lips to her husband' cheek.

"Just roused a few minutes ago. I've sent them off to use the facilities, wash their hands," he supplied.

Indeed, two tousled-hair little girls, one tow-headed, the other raven-haired, came prancing down the stairs not two minutes later, the former far more sedate than the vivacious latter. Olivia, upon seeing Catherine had returned, ran across the room and threw herself into her cherished grandmother's lap.

"You weren't here for nap," Livvie observed, a hint of accusation in her voice.

"If you recall, I said I'd do my best, but I'm afraid I needed just a bit more time," Catherine explained. "Would you care to see what I was about?" Livvie nodded solemnly at her. "Then off you get," Catherine declared, easing her small granddaughter to the floor before she stood and retrieved the first set of bags from the dining table. Livvie's eyed her grandmother questionably when the bags were set before her, then, understanding, she clapped with glee.

"Presents!?" she half-asked, half-announced.

"Indeed, they are," Catherine confirmed before making another trip to the table. "For you…" she set another selection of bags before Sophie, who watched her with wide-eyed uncertainty, "…And for Sophie." Sophie stared at the bags for long seconds before lifting her eyes to Catherine, seeking reassurance.

"For me?" she verified, wistfully. Someone other than her mother or Santa Claus giving her a present was a difficult concept for her understand as It had simply never happened before.

"Yes, all for you," Catherine again confirmed, with another smile. The three-year-old's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of it.

"Is it my birthday?" she finally ventured, hesitantly. This caught Olivia's attention and her eyes snapped upwards to gaze intently at her grandmother.

"I want cake and ice cream!" she announced hopefully.

"It's not Sophie's birthday, lovie," Catherine corrected, running a fond hand over Olivia's hair, while Olivia giggled at the appellation. "Sometimes Grans' like to get their grandchildren presents for no reason other than to bring a smile to their faces."

"But I don't got a Grans," Sophie pointed out. Catherine shifted forward to perch on the edge of the couch to cup Sophie's cheek in her hand.

"You do now," she told the little girl, quietly.

"A granddad, as well, if you'd like," Thomas added.

Sophie cocked her head to the side, judging, as best a little girl like she could, the sincerity of their words. Whatever it was she was looking for she appeared to find, for she shoved the parcels aside, and standing, held out her arms to Catherine. With moist eyes, Catherine lifted the little blonde into her lap, gladly embracing her.

Together they watched as Olivia removed each dress, each outfit, every pair of tights and shoes from her bags, neither all too concerned with what was nestled in Sophie's bags. They had, after all, found something far more valuable: For Sophie, another person, another connection that helped make her feel more secure… safer… in these tumultuous times; and, for Catherine, another child to shower with all the love she'd once imagined she'd bestow upon her own children one day.


	3. February 1991 (2) - 3 years old

_February 1991 – 3 years old_

Fate is a fickle mistress and she had been both supremely cruel and remarkably kind to three-year-old Sophia Jensen. Born to a father who denied her and a mother who adored her, her life to date had been a surprisingly sheltered one, mostly owning to her iron-fisted father, Gabriel Castoro. He, and he alone, determined the course of the lives of her and her mother, through financial control and a heavy hand. There had been no pre-school for the little girl, no playdates in the park, no days spent splashing in the ocean waters, no magical holiday trips to the mall to see Santa. Most of Sophia's life had been contained inside of the four walls of the apartment where she and her mother lived. It was all she had ever known, and therefore had never come to question why she was not a part of the world that she had so little knowledge of.

But there had been dance class… Until her father had put a stop to it as well.

It was alright though, because at the center of her universe had been her mother. Her mother with long, strawberry blonde hair that was as soft as silk. Her mother with bright green eyes that danced with merriment. Her mother who would spend hours with her coloring in coloring books, dancing in the living room, playing hide-n-go-seek, singing nursery rhyme songs, baking cookies with her and playing dress up. Her mother who would lie on her bed with her each night as they listened to Rosemary's _Bedtimes Stories_ together. Her mother who made certain she knew each minute of every day that she, Sophie, was smart, beautiful, amazing, safe and so very, very loved. Her mother was not only her Mommy but her entire universe.

And then, in an instant, she had watched as two men had taken her universe away. There would be no more hugs when she was frightened… and she was suddenly so deeply afraid. There would be no gentle hands that played with her hair when she was sad… and she was suddenly sadder than she had ever been before. There was no more home, no more Mommy, no more best friend. Only her, all alone.

Then she had made a friend, and she wasn't so alone anymore. Still frightened, still sad, still homeless but not as alone as she had been only a few hours before. And at night, when she was her most frightened, most sad, her friend was there sleeping next to her, making her feel safe, comforting her. That little girl with the black hair, bright blue eyes and the slightest sprinkling of freckles on her forehead. Olivia. Livvie. _Her_ Livvie.

"For me?" she asked so quietly she could be barely heard, as her large green eyes moved from the bed to the woman standing slightly behind her.

"For you, kopelia mou," Melina confirmed, laying both her hands on Sophie's shoulders.

Sophia didn't know what to think, what to say, what to do. No one except her Mommy – well, a time or two, Uncle Bernard – had ever given her anything before. It was a pretty bed, just like Olivia's right next to it: white coverlet with tiny embroidered rosebuds, lace trimmed pillow shams. Fit for a princess, that bed was. It was a wonderful present and that someone wanted to give it to her?

She knew it should make her happy. And it did. But it also made her feel… sad… uncertain… frightened.

Her emotions… so many questions… whirled around her. If the bed was hers, would it go with her when she wasn't here anymore? Where would she go? To the father who didn't like her? The man who didn't talk to her, but _did_ yell at her. The man that sometimes hurt her? He man who scared her Mommy, _hurt_ her Mommy, made her Mommy cry? She didn't want to go there. She was _afraid_ to go there. Would they make her go there? As she brought her thumb up to her mouth, her chest started to heave.

She tried to speak, she really did. She tried to say thank you, as her Mommy had always taught her to. But she couldn't. All she could think was that if her Mommy was there, she would know what to do. She wanted her Mommy, so bad that it hurt. Her chin began to tremble.

Then suddenly her Livvie was there, hugging her.

"It's okay, Sophie. Don't be sad."

And suddenly she wasn't so frightened.

"Have you ever jumped-id on a bed, Sophie?" Sophie shook her head in answer, only discover her hand in Livvie's as she was being dragged towards her new bed. "C'mon, I'll show you!" Olivia promised.

Soon, the laughter of two little girls filled the room as they jumped on a brand new bed, all the losses suffered, all the uncertainties, all the confusion forgotten for now.

Melina watched over it all, blinking her eyes rapidly, and in that moment decided if Xenos and Laura would not adopt Sophie…

 _She_ would.


	4. February 1991 (3) - 3 years old

_February 1991 – 3 years old_

A loud, house rumbling clap of thunder jolted Sophie from her sleep. She stared wide eyed out the window in front of her as a streak of lightening crackled and raced towards the ground, before another loud clap of thunder shook the house again. Sitting bolt upright in her bed, she stared around the still unfamiliar room, its strange furnishings and shadows seeming threatening, even as the room lit bright as day when the next strike of lightening illuminated the sky outside.

"Mommy?" Sophie called in a small, fearful voice. She jumped when the next round of thunder boomed, and screamed, "Mommy!"

In the bed next to hers, Olivia's eyes opened, confused by the sound she'd heard at first. But as Sophie's hysterical screams began bouncing off the walls, the littlest Steele scrambled out of her bed, and climbed into Sophie's, then circled her frightened friend with her arms.

"It's okay, Sophie," she promised. "I'll sleep with you, Sophie, it's okay." It was a wonderfully innocent offer, Livvie far too young to understand it wasn't only the storm that had left her friend violent shaking, but also that her mother was not there, would never be there again, to comfort her. Still, Sophie gladly took what comfort was offered, and lay down with Livvie, facing her, while Olivia rubbed her head, as Laura and Remington did for Olivia when she was scared.

"You're a good friend, Livvie Bee," Laura told Livvie as she entered the room.

"Sophie's scared," Olivia offered, wide-eyed.

"I see that," Laura answered as she sat down on the bed. "Sophie, do you want to tell me about it?"

The question only scared her more. Livvie's Mommy was nice. She had kind eyes like _her_ Mommy. Her breathing kicked up a notch again as she remembered she wouldn't see _her_ Mommy again. Mommy. Her Mommy who always made things better.

"I… want… my… Mommy."

"I know you do baby," Laura soothed. "And I promise you, if she could be here with you, she would be. She loved you so, so much." Sophie continued to breathe heavily, to cry, then jumped again with the next thunderous clap. "Alright girl, let's go in get in bed with Da."

Sophie only grew more confused. In her limited experience, fathers pretended their little girls were invisible when they weren't yelling at them, and would never _ever_ let them sleep in Mommy's bed, no matter how scared they were.

"Let's go," Laura prompted. Sophia remained still as a statue, unsure of what to do. Until Livvie reached for her hand, and pulled it.

"C'mon, Sophie!"

Sophie's mind whirled, then settled. Her friend hadn't led her astray yet, so she climbed out from between the sheets and followed behind. In the master bedroom, her feet froze at the end of the big bed and she watched as Livvie climbed into it then pounced on her father. Sophie waited for him to yell at Livvie, for him to yank her off the bed, and spank her bottom until her skin stung. But he never said anything at all, just pressed a kiss to the top of Livvie's head when she nestled herself into the curve of his body.

"Up and in, Sophie," Laura told her lightheartedly, lifting her up and dropping her down on the mattress. The little girl stiffened, at first, when Laura gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, then suddenly found herself wrapped in the arms of two adults, as Remington reached across Livvie and took Laura's hand.

Sophie's eyes flickered from Olivia to Remington then back to Olivia again. When Livvie smiled at her and reached out a hand, laying it on her arm, Sophie began to relax. This was, in her final estimation… _nice._ She was warm, the thunder no longer seemed so loud or the lightning so bright. But most of all, for the first time since her Mommy had gone away, as she fell asleep Sophie felt…

Safe.


	5. March 1991 - 4 Years Old

_March 1991 – Fourth birthday_

A great deal of thought had gone into Sophie's very first birthday party. She been _thrilled_ at the idea of a Valentine's Day party, but when the event arrived, she'd been overwhelmed by the chaos, often clinging to one of Laura's legs for reassurance. The couple concluded a big party, of classmates, family and family friends would be better suited for the following year when their little girl had her legs under her. This year, they'd keep it a festive, but intimate occasion, with only the Fitzgeralds, Pipers, Hawkes, Hendersons, and Mildred in attendance.

It had turned out to be the right decision, as Sophie teetered between gratitude and uncertainty all afternoon. Clarissa had always made Sophie's birthdays special, but isolated as they had been by Castoro, she'd never had a true birthday party of her own before.

"For me?" she asked, uncertainly.

"You're the only little girl I know having a birthday today," Laura confirmed, with a smile, as Sophie stared at the pink and white balloon bouquet laden deck.

"It's Sleeping Beauty," Sophie observed, pointing at the blonde princess featured on a mylar balloon at the center of each bouquet.

"It is," Laura agreed, smiling down at the little girl.

"Look, Sophie, look," Olivia announced excitedly, dancing around on her tip toes as she reached for something on the table. "You gets to be a princess today!" She shoved the rhinestone covered tiara at the little blonde.

"I do?" Sophie asked, drawing out each word in surprise.

"Put it on, Mommy, put it on," Livvie begged. Laura stooped down in front Sophie, and carefully pinned the tiara to her head.

"You do," she smiled. "Every little girl should be a princess on her birthday."

And she had been, enjoying the attention in small doses, then seeking quiet reassurance in the lap of either Laura or Catherine when she began to feel overwhelmed.

She received pretty new clothes from Abigail (by way of Frances) and the Pipers; a cradle and doll carriage much like Olivia's from Granddad and Grans, and Mildred; a musical jewelry box from Bernice and Jason; accessories for her doll from the Hendersons, and from Remington and Laura? A platinum charm bracelet, and emerald eyed kitten charm, similar to the bracelet Olivia had received two Christmas's before, although this time Laura had gladly indulged Remington's penchant for spoiling his children.

As Sophie bent over her cake to blow out her candles, she closed her eyes and wished fervently for the kitten she'd always wanted might one day be a possibility now.

That evening after the party guests had departed, only Thomas and Catherine remaining, Laura and Remington had bestowed upon Sophie one, last gift meant to celebrate not only her birthday but the finalization of her adoption. Her reaction to the gift was unexpected, to say the least.

For instead of a smile of joy the four adults had anticipated, her lip quivered and tears rolled down her face, when she looked into the box and a pair of green-gold eyes, nearly hidden by long, thick black smoke fur peered up at her.

"It's a kitty!" Olivia chortled with glee, as Sophie lifted the bundle of fur from the box and buried her face in its soft hair. "You gotted a kitty, Sophie!"

In an instant, Remington was kneeling beside her as Laura sat down next to him and gathered their little girl in her lap and began to rock with her, while Catherine leaned forward where she was perched on the couch, clearly distraught at her granddaughter's upset.

"What is it, a thaisce? Do you not like the kitten?" Remington was thoroughly perplexed by her response. She'd made mention of longing for a kitten not too many weeks before, and Laura had dedicated herself to identifying a breed that was kid friendly, playful, affectionate and didn't shed overly much. He'd thought her selection spot on… until now.

Sophie couldn't answer the question adequately. How could a four-year-old, after all, express that she held in her arms what she'd most wanted as long as she could recall, but had come to believe would never be hers because of the dominating, demanding man in her life who was adamantly opposed to pets of any kind?

"I don't think that's it at all," Laura answered on Sophia's behalf, stroking her husband's thigh, reassuringly, before looking down at the little girl. "I think she's so happy, she's not quite sure what to do. Am I right, Sophie?" Sophie could only nod her head in answer, still clutching the complacent kitten to her. The other three adults in the room relaxed, visibly, at her response.

"Have you any idea what you wish to name him, Sophie Bird?" Remington asked. As he'd hoped, the question distracted the child and a pair of damp green eyes lifted upwards to look at him.

"Prince Charming!" Olivia shouted the suggestion. "'Cuz Sophie's Sleeping Beauty!" At those words, Sophie gave her sister a toothy-grin and nodded her head, thrilled by Olivia's idea.

"Alright, then," Laura nodded, as well, "Prince Charming, it is."

* * *

"Laura!" Remington shouted, two months later, as he shooed the rapidly growing kitten off his suit coat, and shriveled his nose at the hair the kitten had left behind. _Charming, my arse,_ he grumbled to himself, silently. A slew of more appropriate names for the cat came readily to mind: Colonel Kurtz, Lars Thorwald, Tommy Udo… _Norman Bates!_ he shouted to himself, silently, when the little ball of fur clamped ten nails into his big toe, then, adding insult to injury, sank his teeth into it. "Laura!" he bellowed again, before realizing she'd appeared right in front of him. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes heavenward, she stooped down and detached the kitten from the toe that had been wiggling so enticingly before him. Stepping to the doorway of their bedroom, with the kitten still in her hands, she shook her head at the man before her.

"Sophie. I found Charming!" she called. "He's picking on your Da again." Two pairs of feet could be heard scampering down the hallway in their direction.

"Really, Laura," he complained, as he picked up his coat with disdain and held it aloft with a single finger, " _Picking_ on me? You act as thought that little bag of fur doesn't seek me out with the intent to—"

"Express how fond he is of you?" she interrupted to suggest.

"Fond?" he asked, disbelievingly. " _Fond?_ That fur covered little demon masquerading as a cat is destroying my wardrobe piece-by-piece while leaving permanent scars upon my person," he protested.

"Soph, take Charming back to your room, please," she requested, when Sophie and Livvie appeared in the doorway. As the girls disappeared back down the hallway with the kitten, she shook her head at her husband as she crossed the room to their bathroom. She returned to stand in front of him, smacking a lint brush and Bandaid into his hand.

"I have every confidence your suit and toe will survive, Mr. Steele," she patted his arm in a manner that was not in the least bit sympathetic, then turned to depart the room. "We leave in five minutes."

He glowered at the empty doorway as he sat down on the chair and wrapped the Bandaid around his mangled toe, muttering to himself about unsympathetic wives and demon cats, when said demon cat eyed him from around the corner of the doorway. Convinced the kitten was deciding which of his appendages it wished to mangle next, he grabbed lint brush, coat, socks and shoes and circled a wide berth around the creature then darted out of the room in a most undignified manner.

With a flick of his tail at the silly human, Charming jumped up on to the bed then, settled happily onto Remington's pillow, where he'd spend most of the day waiting for his people to come home.


	6. April 1991 - 4 years old

April 1991 – 4 years old

Sophie tucked herself into a corner of the playroom and pulled Prince Charming close, burying her face in his buttery soft fur. It wasn't only his warmth that brought her comfort, but that, somewhere in her mind, she knew they were alike, because new things kept happening to them both.

She drew in a deep breath, let it out with a shudder as she peered around the playroom.

Before her other Mommy had gone away, they'd lived in that same apartment all her life. In fact, she'd never gone to sleep anywhere but in her bed, in her room, in their apartment. Since her other Mommy had gone away though, she never knew where she would be next. There was the first house, where she and Olivia shared a room. Then there was the place where Granddad and Grans stayed only a few houses away. She tilted her head, in thought. The brown houses by the lake. Then they'd gone back to that first house. Now they were in this one.

Before her other Mommy had gone away, everything had always been the same. The same furniture. The same sounds. The same smells. It made her feel… safe… knowing when she came home after an errand with her other Mommy or when she woke in the morning that she would see the same furniture, hear the same sounds, smell the same smells.

Since her other Mommy had gone away, just when she was getting used to some place new – where she knew the furniture would be the same, the sounds the same, the smell the same – they would go somewhere else. It scared her that everything never stayed the same all of a sudden.

Even the people never stayed the same. Melina used to stay with them, but now Mir.. Mir… Mir…, she sighed, having forgotten the name. Now the other woman stayed with them.

There had been Grandad and Grans, too. She'd really liked Grans. Grans hadn't minded Sophie sitting on her lap or next to her for as long at it took for Sophie not to find the world quite as scary as it seemed. Grans would sing to her, tell her stories, while playing with her hair in the way that would make funny shivers go down her back, but somehow felt really, really nice. In time, she simply felt… safe… when Grans was around, because she somehow knew Grans wouldn't let anything happen to her. But then she'd gone away, just like her other Mommy.

New family, new houses, new people, new school, new dance class. It was all so overwhelming for one very sheltered little girl.

"Girls, I'm home!" her new other Mommy called.

She lifted her head out of Prince Charming's fur, her heart beating a little faster. Her new other Mommy was the only 'same' since her other Mommy went away. Even when her new other Mommy had the baby, she'd seen her every day. The same voice, the same smell, the same touch. She exhaled a shuddering breath then set Prince Charming on his feet before she stood as well. She walked to the front of the house, then stood, waiting patiently to be seen, _wanting_ to be seen so very, very soon.

Then her new other Mommy looked at her, from where she was still kneeling on the floor with Holt in one arm, and Livvie in the other.

"Sophie Bird," her new other Mommy called her name with a smile. "Are you going to scold me for missing dinner as well?"

Sophie shook her head slowly, then tried her very, very best not to run when Livvie moved away and her new other Mommy held open her arm _for her_. She tucked her head against Laura's shoulder.

"I missed you," Sophie whispered next to Laura's ear. Because there it was. The same voice, the same smell, the same touch. She had missed them so much. The tension in her small frame eased.

For now, at least, everything would be okay.

ABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCAC

Sophie stared out the window of the Explorer, wondering if the park they were going to was the same one she and her other Mommy used to go to. At that park, she knew exactly which swing was the best swing, how hard she had to push off on the slide, and where the best trees were when she got too hot and needed some shade.

Her shoulders slumped as Da helped her out of the car. She didn't recognize the park which made it just something else not the same.

At least her new other Mommy was here. That helped her feel a little bit better. Shyly she approached Laura and reached for her hand, relieved when her new other Mommy took her hand and smiled down at her. It made things a little better even more.

Soon, everyone – Livvie, Daddy, new other Mommy, and she - was playing tag together. Her day brightened still more. She used to play tag with her other Mommy and kids at the other park. She played tag at school. It was a little bit of the 'same'.

Then the new other Mommy suggested a game of hide-n-go-seek. That was even more of 'same'. She used to play hide-n-go-seek with her other Mommy in her old house, just the two of them all by themselves. They also played hide-n-go-seek at the other park, with other kids and sometimes their Mommies, too.

By the time they were half-way through the game, Sophie had forgotten all her fears, all her worries, all her confusion, at least for now. The fresh air, sunshine, running around, and everyone's laughter had seen to that.

"Come on, Livvie," she urged as Da covered his eyes and counted to twenty. Taking her new sister's hand in hers, they ran towards a small bunch of very large trees. Ducking behind the trunk of a large pine, they took cover, peeking out every now and again to see if Da was anywhere near.

Livvie wasn't very good at hide-n-go-seek, in Sophie's estimation. She got so excited when they played games she sometimes forgot the rules. Two times Livvie had come out from behind the tree, and she'd had to bring her back before Da saw them. Now she was giggling loud enough that Da would hear.

"Shhhhhh," Sophie warned, pressing a finger to her lips.

"Shhhhhh," Livvie echoed back, mimicking the action.

Fingers still pressed to their lips, they were smiling, as they poked their heads around the tree again. Neither saw or heard Remington as he peeked his head around the other side of the trunk and smiled down at them.

"Boo," he called, jokingly.

Two heads turned as one, a pair of rounded eyes looking at him, before laughter bubbled past their lips as they tried to run away.

"Oh, no you don't," he laughed, catching them around the waists after two long strides. The girls giggled helplessly as they were suspended in the air staring at the ground, kicking their feet in hopes they might get away. "I believe, little ladies, the term is 'you're it'."

Then they were suddenly flying, as Da impulsively spun round and round, while they were still slung under his arms. Their gales of laughter filled the air. And, when he finally stopped spinning and set them on their feet, even more laughter came as they stumbled about unable to find their balance.

For a couple of short hours in the park, Sophie forgot the world had suddenly become so frightening. Instead, for a little while, she was nothing more than a little girl enjoying the day with her family and it was okay for everything not to be the same.

ABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABCABC

Remington sat down in an Adirondack lounge on the deck at the rear of Casa Malaga, and opened his sketchpad. From the first broad stroke of his pencil, the image began to take shape on the paper. While he admired the picture sent to them by the LA Times photo journalist, it had merely sparked inspiration, but it would not be replicated. No, he much preferred the pictures the girls had made, when they'd turned and seen him standing there. Even now, the memory of their laughter in the minutes afterwards, had the power to bring a broad smile to his face.

Two weeks later, the portrait would be the next to hang on the wall of Sophie's bedroom.


	7. May 1991 - 4 years old

_May 1991 – 4 years old_

Laura released her grasp on Sophia and watched as her purple swimsuit clad daughter dog-paddled across the pool towards Remington waiting arms.

The couple had been caught off-guard when Sophia had shyly admitted she didn't know how to swim.

And then they weren't.

Surprised that is.

The dictatorial, controlling, and abusive nature of Gabriel Castoro had forced Sophia and her birthmother, Clarissa Jenkins, to live very isolated lives, most of it playing out between the four walls of apartment where the pair had lived. Clarissa had managed covert visits to the park, now and again, but more organized activities – such as dance class – had been quickly and summarily ended at Castoro's demands.

"A splendid display of your swimming skills, a thaisce," Remington praised as he caught his daughter and fished her out of the water, holding her in his embrace. "You'll be swimming the turquoise waters of the Aegean like a little mermaid by the time we arrive in Greece." Sophie graced him with a toothy grin, although she had not a clue what an Aegean or Greece were. She only knew the praise, said as he had spoken it, made her feel special, proud even.

And the hair on his torso, brushing against her leg and arm as it was kind of… tickled. She grew thoughtful, looking from her father, to her mother, then back to her father again.

"Da, why do you have hair here but not me or Mommy?" she patted him against his chest, a pair of inquisitive green eyes regarding him.

The question befuddled him, momentarily and he looked to Laura for guidance. The only assistance he received from that quarter was her patented 'I dare ya, big guy. Have at it.' look.

"Well, because I'm a boy," he answered, giving his wife a smug smile. _There, how hard was that?_ he smiled back at Laura. "Back to Mommy you go, Sophie Bird," he told the little girl, setting her back into the water and watching as she paddled her way back to Laura.

On the terrace, where Holt lay under the shade of an umbrella, he kicked his legs happily, making the bouncy seat move up and down. He cooed in response, drawing Sophie's eyes, when Laura lifted her from the water. She squirmed away from Laura and swam to Remington.

"Holt's a boy," Sophie pointed out, when safe on his hip again.

"A strapping young lad he is, for certain," Remington agreed. She cocked her head to the side, tugged absently on a few strands of chest hair. He suppressed the urge to wince.

"He doesn't have hair here," she pointed out. He raised a pair of brows at her, regarding her soberly.

"That's because he's just a babe, whereas I'm a man," he explained. She frowned at him, not understanding the distinction. He narrowed his eyes when the woman across the pool snickered.

"You and Holt are boys," she answered, reminding of what he'd said just a few minutes before. The snicker across the pool grew louder.

"Yes. Yes, we are. But he's _just_ a boy and I'm also a man," he answered, beginning to feel like a perp under the lights being grilled about a crime. "On your way again," he instructed, holding her sides until she began to move ahead. But much like a bobby interviewing their suspect, she quickly returned in pursuit of answers.

"So Holt will have it," she patted his chest, "When he grows up?" He looked to his partner, hoping for rescue. Instead, she bit down – hard- on her lower lip and looked away, shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth.

"That's hard to say. Some boys do but some boys don't," he answered.

"Why?" she asked, cocking her head again in question. At that, his treacherous wife stopped trying to contain her laughter. He leveled her with a heartfelt glare, even as he swiped at his mouth. The questions were veering perilously close to a conversation that should be purely Laura's to address in, say, twenty years or so.

Then, inspiration struck.

"How about if you ask that question of your mother, hmmm?" he suggested, casting Laura a smug look as he eased Sophie back down in the water. "We wouldn't wish her to feel left out of such an important conversation, now would we?." The supercilious brow he lifted in her direction faltered when she pursed her lips and lifted her brows in answer.

"Mommy?" Sophie questioned, when she wrapped her arms around Laura's neck and locked her legs around her mother's waist.

"Well, Soph, the answer to that question is _so_ complicated that you'll need to be a seventh grader, like Laurie Beth, to really understand it. So what do you say, you ask me again then, huh?" Sophie nodded her head, satisfied.

"Okay."

Remington's mouth fell open, seeing his previously dogged daughter's easy acceptance of Laura's explanation. The superior lift of Laura's lips, made him fail to notice the mischief dancing in her eyes when she bent her head down to whisper in Sophie's ear.

Sophie paddled across the pool to her father, then patted him on the chest when he lifted her from the water.

"Da, what does macho and manly mean?"

* * *

 _ **"Oh, Mr. Steele, what a hairy chest you have - So macho, so manly."**_

* * *

His lips quirked upwards in a smile and his eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed low in his throat. He pretended to sober and widened his eyes at Sophie, conspiratorially.

"It means…" he elongated each word as he plucked her out of the water, and set her on her feet on the poolside, " Your _Mommy_ wants Da to go _kiss_ her," he answered, his eyes flickering towards Laura as he spoke the words. Laura's warm laugh wafted in the air, as he waded through the water towards her.

Sophie padded across the terrace to join Olivia where she was coloring on the pavers with her chalk, the cast upon her small arm preventing her from playing in the pool. She rolled her eyes at her sister and sighed dramatically.

"Mommy _always_ wants Da to kissed her," Livvie told her sister, in a tone that implied her parents were being silly again.

"That she does, Livvie Bee," Remington agreed, as he slipped one arm around Laura's waist, the other around her shoulders and drew her near.

When he bent his head and caressed her lips with his, her laugher faded away as all her thoughts were overridden by the sensation of the cool water, his warm flesh beneath her hands, and the pair of hot lips that were currently teasing hers.


	8. September 1991 - 4 years old

**_A/N: For Chibijem_**

* * *

 _September 1991 – 4 years old_

With a small sigh, Sophie set down the pink crayon she'd been using and looked out the window. The skies outside remained grey, the rain continued to come down in sheets, and every now and then a clap of thunder would sound, followed by a flash of lightning. With another short sigh, her shoulders slumped and she dropped her chin into her palm.

As if knowing she needed company, Charming – the kitten, now cat, Sophie had been given for her fourth birthday – sauntered into the room, his tail twitching, as he eyed first Holt where he babbled and rocked back and forth on his hands and knees on his blanket, then Olivia, who sat across from Sophie, coloring as well. Seeing his target, he trotted across the room, leaped up on the table, and swished his tail in his mistress's face. Sophie gathered the cat in her arms and buried her face in his soft, thick hair.

Mommy and Da had promised _all week_ that they'd go to the zoo today. She'd never been to the zoo before, because the man that yelled at her, when he didn't pretend she was invisible, wouldn't let her other Mommy take her.

"It's a waste of money," the man had yelled at her other Mommy one day when she'd dared to bring up a trip to the zoo. "If the little brat wants to see a giraffe, turn on the goddamned television."

This week in school it had been 'Zoo Week.' All week long they learned about monkeys and lions and giraffes and elephants and zebras and… way more animals than she could remember. They'd colored pictures of the animals, had made animal faces on paper plates, and Michaela's Mommy had even come to the classroom and painted _everyone's_ faces so they could pretend to be lions for the day.

On Monday night, as the family sat down to eat dinner together, Olivia had enthusiastically shared the 'Zoo-Ventures' they would be having at school all week long, with Sophia interjecting comments here-and-there. Eventually, she'd tuned out the conversation around her, her thoughts turning to dance class the following night and the brand new pair of patent leather tap shoes waiting in her dance bag upstairs. Now that the new 'school year' had begun, Livvie and Sophie as four-year-olds were permitted to start tap classes. Just the thought of click-clacking around the studio brought a smile to her face.

"Soph… Sophie… a thaisce?"

Da's nickname for her drew her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him expectantly.

"Caught you napping did I?" he teased lightly, while Mommy smiled then reached out and stroked her head with a hand. The question had her brows furrowing.

"I wasn't sleeping," she answered, baffled by his question. Her answer made her Da laugh warmly.

"Daydreaming, then," he smiled at her. "I asked what your favorite animal at the zoo was." She lifted her shoulders high then let them drop.

"I don't know." The answer had Remington and Laura sharing a look, and Laura's hand stroked over the little girl's hair again. It was sometimes too easy to forget that Sophia had spent the bulk of her childhood as a shut-in.

"Have you ever gone to the Zoo, Soph?" This question from Laura. Sophie looked down at her plate and shook her head in answer. She'd been the only child in her class that hadn't, and that had somehow made her feel embarrassed. Another look, exchanged between her parents.

"Well, we can't have that, now, can we?" Remington announced. "It seems we'll be taking a little trip 'round to the Zoo on Saturday." Sophie's head had jerked up at the news, a wide smile lighting her face. She looked from her father to her mother.

"We are?" she asked wistfully. Her Mommy's hand had stroked her head again, as she nodded somberly.

"We are."

All week she'd looked forward to their trip… Only for it to rain.

She sighed her unhappiness, again, this time into Charming's coat. He squirmed in her arms, and batted a soft paw at her face before letting out a plaintive meow, his signal that he wished for a treat. With a final sigh, she stood with him in her arms and left the playroom. She might not be able to go to the zoo, but her cat's problem could be solved easily enough.

Charming still held in her arms, she stopped in the kitchen doorway and silently watched her parents, not wishing to interrupt. Her Mommy and Da were always hugging and kissing in this kitchen, so that was nothing new. But there was something different about it this time, maybe nothing more than they weren't talking and laughing like they normally did, but were just standing there. She turned to leave when Charming let out a plaintive meow… a meow that had her parents stepping apart and turning their heads to look in her direction.

"Charming wants a treat," she explained, her small frame stiffening as she waited for one of them to scream at her like the man always did when he said she'd 'interrupted.' Instead, her Mommy smiled at her.

"Well, let's see what we've got. What do you say?" Laura asked, waving cat and child into the kitchen, as Remington rubbed at his face and cleared his throat. Cautiously, Sophie entered the kitchen. Seeing her hesitate, Remington sat his own problems aside to reassure her.

"Best fatten him up today, a thaisce, for he'll be alone most of the day tomorrow," he announced. Her eyes widened.

"He will?" she drew out the words, curious.

"Mmmmmm. We'll be taking that trip to the zoo, as promised, before we go to Aunt Frances and Uncle Donald's for dinner."

"We will?" She drew out the words again, this time in wonderment. Stooping before her, he tweaked her nose and smiled at her – a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"We will. A promise is a promise after all. " Standing he looked at Laura and motioned with a hand at nothing in particular. "I'll be…" Laura nodded her understanding then watched, with a pair of concerned eyes, as he left the room. She forced herself to focus on the issue at hand, and reached into the pantry, pulling out a container of Pounce.

"Let's see what Charming thinks about these, huh?" Opening the container, she tapped three treats into her palm and held them out to Sophie. Charming ate greedily and was purring contentedly before he was done. Putting away the container, Laura and Sophie left the kitchen.

"Mommy, why is Da sad?" Sophie inquired, her concern echoed in her voice. Laura drew in her lower lip and nibbled at it for a long second, then stooped down in front of her daughter.

"Well, Soph, you know how you sometimes get sad when you think of your Mommy?" Sophie nodded her head.

"Yes," she answered, the question making her remember that sadness.

"Well, _sometimes_ when your Da thinks of his Mommy, or his friend, Daniel, it makes him sad, too. Do you understand?" Sophie nodded her head again and Laura stood. "Okay, go play. I'll call you and your sister after I've folded the laundry and have made your snack."

Sophie obediently returned to the playroom, then made a decision. Setting Charming down on the floor, she ran quietly down the opposite side of the hallway. It wasn't often that she disobeyed Mommy or Da and hoped she wouldn't get in too much trouble. The formal living room was empty, and so was Mommy's office. No one in the billiards room. She carefully opened the door to the screening room, where she could see Da's head in the light from the projection screen. Slipping inside, she quietly closed the door, then walked across the room to where Remington sat, his cheek resting on a fist.

He blinked, snapped from his thoughts, when Sophie scrambled up onto the sofa then leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"It's okay to be sad, Da," she assured him, a small hand patting his shoulder. "I get sad sometimes, too." To his horror, as he wrapped his arms around his little daughter, he felt his eyes tingle at the gesture. Choked up, he turned his head and bussed the back of hers where it lay on his shoulder.

"Ah, Sophie Bird, you are a true treasure," he told her, gruffly, before lifting her away to sit on his lap, facing him. "Would you like to watch a movie with your old Da?" She nodded her head, solemnly. His movies didn't have princesses, puppies or kitties, but if it would make him feel better if she stayed, that was all that mattered. She shifted to sit between him and the arm of the couch, then listened avidly as he spoke.

"This movie is named _Casablanca_. It reminds me of your mother…"

* * *

An hour later, the door to the screening room opened, then closed again. When Laura hadn't found Sophie in the playroom forty-five minutes before, a peek into the screening room had revealed father and daughter sitting together, Remington's head bent down as he quietly spoke with his little girl.

Taking Livvie's hand, Laura - holding Holt – walked across the room and stopped at the end of the couch.

"Would you like a little more company?" Laura asked.

"Would love it," he answered.

Lifting Livvie up to sit in his lap, he opened an arm and waited until Laura tucked herself and Holt into his side, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Several minutes, ticked past, with the girls asking questions and Remington answering them. When they quieted, for as brief a time as that might be, he pressed his cheek against the side of Laura's head.

"I'm a truly fortunate man, love," he murmured softly. Reaching for the hand near her shoulder, she tangled their fingers together.

"Yes, you are," she agreed.


	9. December 1991 - 4 years old

_December 21, 1991_

Laura stooped down before Olivia and Sophia, giving them a final appraisal. Both girls were dressed in white satin dresses, with a full, white tulle skirt and red satin belt, a red and white flower crown sitting on each of their heads.

"You look _very_ pretty," she praised. "Now, remember: Step-step, then sprinkle some of your flowers, just like we practiced."

"Okay, Mommy," Sophie agreed, easily, while Livvie nodded her head. Standing, Laura ran her hands over her red satin, tea length dress, with full skirt. Turning around, she looked Mildred over from head to toe, giving a nod to the cream colored suit and pumps.

"You make a beautiful bride, Mildred," she complimented, leaning in to give her a hug. "Before you know it'll be Mildred Morrison."

Mildred and Rusty had set a date in September. Remington and Laura had been surprised they'd chosen to wed so close to Christmas. Their shock must have shown, for Mildred had been quick to explain…

* * *

" _ **Rusty and I are both in what some people call the winter of our lives. What better day to get married than the first day of winter?"**_

* * *

"Not at work," Mildred reminded. She'd made the decision to retain the name by which she was known for her white-collar investigations.

As the first strains of music began and the doors to the sanctuary opened, Laura lined up the girls: Livvie first, followed by Sophie.

"Remember, step-step, petals. Just follow me."

Taking a deliberate breath and letting it out slowly, Laura plastered a bright smile on her face, and sedately stepped through the doors. When she reached the altar, Livvie appeared in the doorway. The little girl's face was the picture of concentration as she perfectly executed the step-step-petals routine under Laura's proud gaze, arriving soon at her mother's side.

Then Sophie stepped into the doorway. Eye cast downwards at her basket, she stepped into the aisle.

Step-step-petals.

Step-step-petals.

She lifted her head and sought out Laura's eyes, for assurance she was doing her job correctly….

And stutter-stepped then froze when she saw dozens of pairs of eyes all focused upon her. Her heart began to pound, her breathing sped up, then she was sprinting down the aisle towards the familiarity of her mother. Those in the sanctuary erupted in bemused laughter as Sophie bolted up the altar and ducked behind Laura wrapping her arms around her mother's legs and pressing her face into Laura's back. With an amused smiled of her own, Laura stroked Sophie's arm.

"It's okay, Soph," she assured in a whisper.

In the ante room, Remington watched at the doors swung closed.

"You're up next, Mildred," he announced, turning towards his surrogate mother. "And if I may say so, myself, you're radiant, darling." Her cheeks pinked at the flattery.

"Aw, Boss."

The Steele's had been beyond touched when Mildred had asked that they serve as her wedding party, although Bernard would certainly be at the service – standing as Rusty's best man. Remington had grown positively misty-eyed when she'd asked if he'd be willing to 'give her away.' And now, there they were with him prepared to walk her down the aisle. With a buss on the cheek, he offered her an arm, and they waited together as the doors swung open and the music began.

With a pat of the hand resting against his arm, they began down the aisle…

* * *

"Oh, Soph, it's okay," Laura comforted in the anteroom after the ceremony. Large tears rolled down Sophie's face, where she stood in the middle of the room.

"I…didn't…do… it… right," she said between great, gasping sobs. "I…didn't…. do… step-step….petals." Striding across the room, Laura leaned down and picked up her daughter, gathering her in a tight hug when Sophie's legs hooked around her waist.

"Sweet girl," Laura whispered against Sophie's ear, rocking side-to-side with her daughter, offering her what comfort she could. There was no one harder on Sophie than Sophie herself. Years of Castoro belittling her, when he wasn't pretending that she was invisible, had left lasting wounds… wounds Laura feared would never heal, no matter how much love and approval she received.

"What's all the ruckus in here?" Mildred demanded to know as she walked into the room. She'd watched as first Sophie then Laura had dashed out of the procession line when they were leaving the sanctuary.

"Mildred, I'm so sorry," Laura apologized , profusely. The older woman should have been on the church steps preparing to throw her bouquet and instead stood in the anteroom with them. "I promise we'll be out in just a minute." Mildred ignored apology, concerned with the heartbroken little girl.

"Wanna tell Auntie Mildred what's going on?" she asked, stepping behind Laura to lean down and look up at Sophie. Sophie buried her face in Laura's neck.

"I… didn't… step-step…pet-…pet….als," she ended on a wail. Mildred fought not to allow the surge of anger she felt show on her face. _Damn that Castoro_ , she silently cursed.

"Big deal," Mildred dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You know what they say: 'If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.'"

"I… I… ca-… can't," Sophie stuttered, her sobs picking up momentum.

"Says who? It's my wedding and I say you can!" Mildred answered indignantly. Sophie lifted her head to look at Mildred.

"I… ca-… can?" Mildred's face lit up.

"Of course you can. So let's get this show on the road." Laura turned to face her.

"Mildred, you don't have to do this, she'll be—"

"I don't have to, I want to," Mildred dismissed, then smiled at Laura and wagged her hips.

"Besides, I kind of like being the center of attention."

"But your bouquet," Laura protested.

"If someone wants this bouquet that bad, they'll just have to stick around," she shrugged.

Ten minutes later, with the organist persuaded to assist, Bernard and Rusty once again stood at the altar as the music started and the doors to the sanctuary swung open. First, Laura, then Livvie – who was only too happy to sprinkle flowers on the floor again – walked down the aisle.

This time Sophie did her step-step petals routine perfectly. When she reached the altar, a wide-smile lit her face and she threw herself into Laura's arms.

That evening at the reception, Sophie crawled up into Mildred's lap, plopped a thumb in her mouth and snuggled against the woman's ample bosom. Mildred blinked away threatening tears as it was the first time, in her recollection, that Sophie had come to her without prompting.

"Well isn't this a treat," Mildred oozed. "Did you enjoy the day, kidddo?" Sophie's large, green eyes regarded Mildred somberly as she nodded. A thought had been on Sophie's mind for some time that evening. It was, in her estimation, a question of enough import to remove her thumb from her mouth.

"Michaela says people get married so they can have a baby," Sophie informed Mildred. "Are you going to have a baby, Auntie Mildred?"

It was one of the rare occasions Mildred was left speechless.


	10. December 24, 1991 - 4 years old (Pt 1)

**_A/N: In honor of Holt's 1st Christmas and Sophia's 1st Christmas as a Steele, I am going to do a four part piece: Remington and Laura's perspective first - here; Olivia's perspective, 2nd; Holt's perspective, 3rd; and, finally, Sophia's perspective._**

* * *

 _December 24, 1991 (Pt 1)_

Laura sat back on her haunches from where she kneeled before the Christmas tree and heaved a long sigh.

"It wasn't me," Remington defended. "If you wish to be put out with someone, you've an entire list to choose from: Marcos and Elena, Zeth and Calista, Christos and Helena, Father and Catherine, Lena and Miri, merely to start."

"I know, I know. It's just…" she lifted a pair of hands and dropped them "…too much." She looked at the stacks upon stacks of presents beneath and surrounding the tree. "Absurd, even," she added under her breath.

"And still more yet to come," he reminded.

It was true. As had become tradition, they would be hosting the annual family Christmas celebration the following afternoon. The guest list was lengthy and each of those guests were guaranteed to arrive with armfuls of gifts for the children: Monroe, Jocelyn and their brood; Murphy, Sherry and their two sets of twins; Bernice, Jason and Bo; Frances, Donald, Abigail and the children; and, Veronica and Maxine.

As was their habit, Thomas and Catherine had arrived shortly before Thanksgiving, installing themselves in the Rossmore flat. Tonight, however, they slept above stairs in the guest bedroom having taken part in Midnight Mass with the family, and desiring to wake with their grandchildren on Christmas morning.

The Steele house would be a very full one, indeed… and bursting at the seams with gifts, it would appear.

"Don't forget, love, positively dozens of these gifts are for friends and family when they arrive," he reminded her, now.

"I know. I just don't want the children growing up viewing Christmas as 'what they can get,' instead of 'how they should give,'" she lamented, placing one of the last four presents under the tree.

"In a couple of years, we can show the through deed what the season is truly about," he reminded. "Before you know it, they'll be passing out gifts at the shelter and serving vegetables at the mission." She gave him a look that said 'you better believe it.'

"Did you remember the Belle dolls? The girls will be heartbroken if they don't find them beneath the tree from Santa. It's the only thing Soph asked for, at all."

The inherent contradiction of her question and her earlier fear left him laughing low in his throat.

"How could I've forgotten? It's all they've spoken of since seeing the movie," he pointed out.

"Which time?" she asked, drily.

They'd taken the girls to the opening of _Beauty and the Beast_ only a few weeks before. In the weeks since, Auntie Mildred and Rusty had swept them away to see the movie a second time as a 'pre-wedding gift' – laughable that was, as the gifts should have been flowing in quite the opposite direction. Lena had promised the girls a 'special day' before her departure for Oia, which had turned into lunch and a third trip to see the movie. Miri, having listened to their non-stop chatter about the story, had been convinced to take them a fourth time.

" _Every_ time," he replied, a wide smile lighting his face. "On the upside, I imagine we know what movie it is they'll wish to next add to their collection." This remark earned a heavenwards roll of her eyes. More movies. Just what the Steele household needed. Placing one final wrapped box around the tree, Remington pushed to his feet and offered Laura a hand up. He gathered her in his arms when she stood, and dropped a kiss on her lips. "I believe there's a Christmas Eve tradition of our own awaiting us upstairs, hmmmm?" he hummed sensually. Her soft laughter filled the air.

"Somehow I knew that Christmas tree in our bedroom was more than a nod to my love of the holiday," she teased lightly, sliding her hands over his shoulders and clasping her hands behind his neck. Her smiled widened when he lifted a pair of brows and pursed his lips as he rocked from side-to-side with her.

"I've grown rather fond of making love beneath the lights of the tree," he admitted , burying his hand in her hair and stealing a kiss. "And we can't very well do so here, with the children, my father and Catherine lurking about, now can we? Hmmm?" Pressing up on her tiptoes, she touched her lips to his neck.

"You know how attractive I find it when you plan ahead," she murmured against his skin, heating it with her breath.

He didn't need a second invitation, swinging her up into his arms and walking towards the stairs.

* * *

"Ooomph," Remington grunted, when a child in the form of his first born managed to finagle her way around his wife's slim form tucked against him, and plopped down unceremoniously upon his stomach.

"Da! It's morning, Da!" Livvie's melodic voice registered through the haze of sleep. A pair of bleary blue eyes blinked open when a small hand patted his cheek insistently. His eyes met with his daughter's identical bright blue eyes, which were currently lit up with eager anticipation. With a grunt, he turned his head on the pillow and squinted at the alarm clock positioned on Laura's bedside table. Five-fifty-five. _Morning? Just barely._

"So I see," he answered, rubbing his hands over his face to remove the last vestiges of sleep from his muddled mind. Grasping Laura's shoulder he gave her a gentle shake.

"I'm awake," she mumbled against his shoulder. She'd taken a small foot in the sternum when Livvie had jumped on her father. Rolling to her back, head still pillowed against his arm, she turned and found Sophie silently watching the scene unfold. An arm held open to her by her mother had the little girl scrambling up on the bed.

"Da!" Livvie called, clasping his cheeks in her hands. "Did Santa came? Me and Sophie went right to sleep just like you said."

"I suppose the only way we'll know the answer to that is to go downstairs, hmmm?" He groaned again, when Livvie jumped on his stomach several times in quick succession. Out of sheer self-protection, he plucked her off his tummy and sat her on the floor where her feet danced beneath her.

"Come on, Da! Come on!" she squealed.

"Can we, Mommy?" Sophie asked. She tilted back her head to look up at her mother, a hopeful gleam in her green eyes. Well, what could Laura say to _that_?!

"Let's go get your brother," she suggested, rising from the bed when Sophie climbed out.

After donning their robes, Laura stepped into the nursery with Sophie while Remington led Livvie down the hallway to the room where his father and Catherine slept. He rapped his knuckles sharply against the door, twice.

"Be right down, son," Thomas's groggy voice called.

"Can we go, Da? Can we? Please?" Livvie danced around at the top of the stairs, tugging at his hand.

"Go ahead," Laura instructed with a wave, as she stepped out of the master at the other end of the hall with Sophie and Holt.

Olivia's excited shrieks rang through the house before Laura, Sophie and Holt had made it halfway down the stairs.

"He came, Da! Santa came!"

"Aye. And from the looks of things, Santa must believe three children have been _very_ good this year," he answered in an exaggerated voice that left his wife smiling. "You may look, but we won't be opening our gifts until Grandad and Grans join us." He disappeared into the kitchen to prepare coffee and tea for the adults, glasses of juice for the girls.

Releasing Sophie's hand, Laura picked up Holt's blanket from where it was draped over the arm of a chair, and spread it on the floor, then sat him down on it to finish slurping his bottle. Her eyes never left their eldest daughter.

She'd worried frequently about how Sophie would respond to the chaos of Christmas Day. Their eldest daughter could still become overwhelmed from time-to-time, as she struggled to reconcile the difference between her two lives: then and now. It was clear Clarissa had worked hard to shelter Sophie from Castoro's cruelty, but what she had been exposed to had left a lasting imprint – ones the Steele's were working very hard to erase.

"Look, Sophie!" Livvie called, pointing to a box wrapped in festive paper. "This one's for me. See?" Sophie inched across the room then kneeled down at Livvie's side to examine the package that had her sister so excite. "It has a 'o' and a 'a'!"

"It is your name!" Sophie confirmed, happily. Sitting down on a nearby ottoman, Laura leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her and watched as the scene played out.

"Look, Sophie! Another one!" Livvie cried out. Sophie nodded as she studied another tag. _H-O-L-T._

"That's for the baby! Mommy showed me how to write his name!" she shared.

"Who's this for?" Livvie asked pointing at another box. _L-A-U-R-A_. Sophie raised her shoulders and dropped them, while holding out both her hands.

"I don't know." She turned in the other direction, her eyes drawn to the purple bow adorning a package. _S-O-P-H-I-A._

"That's me! That's me!" she exclaimed. Olivia scrambled over on her hands and knees to verify Sophie's discovery.

"It is you! It has an 's', like you drawed all the time!" she confirmed, clapping her hands for her sister. "And look Sophie, there's another 's'!" Livvie pointed.

"It _is_ me!"

Livvie continued to ferret out 's' and 'o's' while Sophie stood up and walked to Laura.

"Mommy?" Laura reached out and stroked Sophie's cheek.

"Yes, sweet girl?"

"Does _Santa_ think I was good?"

"Oh, Soph," Laura replied, enfolding her in a hug, "Santa _knows_ you are a very, _very_ good girl." Sophie's eyes shone with happiness when her mother released her.

"A veritable angel," Catherine concurred, as she and Thomas, both garbed in their robes entered the room. "Happy Christmas, my darling girl," she greeted, kneeling down to bus Sophie upon the cheek and give her a hug.

"Grans! Grandad! Santa came!" Olivia announced, throwing herself at her grandfather, who swooped her up in his arms.

"So he did. Happy Christmas, my Little Lady." Thomas planted a kiss upon his granddaughter's cheek, turning around as his son appeared from the kitchen bearing a tray of drinks for all. Setting the tray on the coffee table, Remington bestowed an embrace on his father.

"Happy Christmas, Father." He moved to the sofa where Catherine had just taken a seat. "Happy Christmas, Catherine." He bussed her on the cheek. He passed out tea to Thomas and Catherine, and handed Laura her coffee in her favorite mug, before clapping his hands together with relish. "So, Little Ladies Steele…" the girls giggled at the moniker "…are you ready to get this show on the road?"

(TBC)

* * *

 _ **A/N: Pt. 2 will be published to Vignettes of Steele: Olivia**_


	11. December 25, 1991 - 4 years old

_December 25, 1991 – 4 years old_

"Girls, I want you to take all your gifts up to your rooms. We'll figure out after brunch where we're going to put everything. Once I have Holt down, I'll be in to help you get dressed."

"Okay, Mommy," Olivia easily agreed. Sophie echoed the words.

Sophie watched as Laura climbed the stairs with Holt in her arms, then turned back to the neatly made stacks in front of her: Paper to be thrown away, toys, then clothes. Now, standing beside her, Olivia let out a long, woe begotten sigh.

"There's too much," she lamented, as she eyed her own, mostly unopened stacks of presents.

"Then, by all means, let me help, my darling girls," Catherine offered, getting up from the couch then gathering a stack of boxes from Olivia's stash. "Come along now, Livvie, take as much as you dare. You want to be certain you can see the stairs." As Olivia trudged after Catherine, her arms laden with gifts, Sophie scooped up the paper and ran to the kitchen to throw it away, before returning to her own piles and picking up the pile of clothing she'd neatly laid out.

Three trips up and down those stairs, with Grans helping on the last trip, and everything was lying on the spare bed in her room. She could hear Mommy battling with Livvie in the room next door, as she again created a neat division of her gifts.

"Ouch! That _hurts_ , Mommy," Livvie could be heard protesting from her room. No doubt her tender headed sister was getting her hair brushed and put up in either a ponytail or braid for the day.

As she patiently waited her turn, Prince Charming eyed her from his bed which had been tucked into a corner of her room beneath the window, where he could enjoy the early morning sun streaming through the glass. The imperial swish of his tail reminded her of a cherished, but surprising gift from Santa: A new rhinestone collar with bells that jingled for Charming. With pointed concentration, she removed Charming's old collar and replaced it with the new, smiling when he stretched contentedly and meowed up at her as though approving of his new jewels. She leaned over to scratch him behind his ears, his motor rumbling into a purr of approval.

Charming was, in her estimation, the best gift she'd ever received. Next to Olivia, he was her very bestest friend in the whole world. When she was scared, he'd let her cuddle him close. When she was sad, he'd rub his head against her chin. When she missed her other Mommy, he'd inevitably lick her nose or knead a tummy or arm, pulling her out of her doldrums.

And today, she was missing her other Mommy a little more than normal. Standing, she took Clarissa's picture off her bedside table, and clutching it to her chest, she lay down on her bed. A blink of an eye later and Charming was at her side, nuzzling at her shoulder.

She hadn't known what to expect today. It wasn't as though she could really remember three of the four Christmases she had spent with her other Mommy, but she could remember last Christmas really good. The mean man hadn't come over the night before Santa came, so her other Mommy and her had snuggled together on the couch, watching Christmas movies together. They'd set milk and cookies out on the coffee table before going to bed, and for the first time in a long time, she got to sleep in her other Mommy's bed. When she woke the next morning, her Mommy was no longer in bed and their whole apartment smelled sweet and spicy at the same time. They at a breakfast of scrambled eggs and hot, sticky cinnamon buns – all chased down with cold glasses of milk – in front of the tree as she'd opened the few, small presents Santa had brought her.

She hadn't expected Santa to bring her anything at all, because she'd heard the mean man that was her Daddy, too, say…

"Tell her the truth: Santa Claus only brings good children presents, not brats."

So she'd really been surprised to find a Barbie Colorforms, two new coloring books, a new box of crayons (that she had to smell because new crayons always smelled soooooo good), and her first set of big girl magic markers. But, far and away, it was the last present she'd loved most: Rosemary's _Bedtime Stories._ On the nights when the mean man wasn't there, her other Mommy would lay in her bed with her, and they'd listen to the lady's soothing voice as she told the stories of the _Three Billy Goat Gruff_ and _Rumpelstiltskin._

But that Christmas Day, carols had played on the radio all day long. She and her other Mommy had colored together, cut out snowflakes from paper, and had played with her Colorforms. They'd played hide-n-seek in the apartment, then had eaten a modest Christmas dinner of ham, mashed potatoes, corn and cranberries. The food had made her sleepy enough, but the hot chocolate as they'd colored one last time together had left her yawning and rubbing at her eyes. That was the very first night her other Mommy cuddled with her on her bed as the stories played in the background.

It had been a really good day, a happy day, and she and her other Mommy had smiled and—

She felt the bed behind her move as Laura sat down behind her.

"What's on your mind, sweet girl?" Laura asked, reaching out to stroke Sophie's hair and back. As soon as she'd stepped into the room she'd known Sophie was struggling, Charming had made that clear. The cat was keenly sensitive to his owner's mood, and would keep close to her when her fears became too big or her mood too solemn.

When Sophie remained silent – whether her feelings were far too large for a little girl to voice or if she was concerned about making someone else feel bad by sharing, either of which was possible with Sophie's sensitive soul - Laura's eyes scanned the room. A ridiculous number of new toys and clothes were neatly organized on the other bed. The experience had been initially confusing for Sophie, but once the initial confirmation that Santa did, indeed, think she was a very good girl had been dispensed with, she'd seemed fine. She'd contentedly opened each of her presents in her own time, her own way, and had seemed blissfully serene. Laura had, in fact, given a great deal of credit to the warm environment of the small family gathering, everyone in the room someone Sophie interacted frequently with and was adored by, but even more importantly, they were people – even children – that she felt safe with.

Eyes narrowing, she continued to examine the room, finding nothing amiss until her sight arrived on the bedside table…

And then she knew.

"It's okay to miss your Mommy, Soph," Laura softly assured. The shudder that raced through her daughter's small frame confirmed the reason for Sophie's sudden bout of melancholy. For a long moment there was only silence, then a small, uncertain voice asked…

"It is?" With a quiet smile and a disbelieving shake of her head, Laura stretched out next to her daughter and wrapped an arm around child and cat.

"Of course it is," she answered, emphasizing each word to make certain they'd be believed. "Your Mommy loved you so, so much. How could you not miss her, especially on a day as special as today?" She rested her chin on the top of Sophie's blonde head. "You never have to worry about talking about your Mommy with us. Do you know that?" Sophie shrugged a soft shoulder in answer. "Well, you can. Your Da and I love your Mommy in our own way, too, you know."

"You do?" Sophie drew out each word in quiet surprise.

"How could we not?" Laura asked, matter of fact. "When she couldn't take care of you anymore, she sent you to us. And you, Sophia Alexa Jensen Steele, are the best gift your Da and I have _ever_ been given." Hugging Sophie, she dropped a kiss on top of her head. "Your Da and I love you _so, so_ much, just as your Mommy did and we are so _very proud_ that you're _our_ daughter. She gave Livvie a sister, and Holt a second sister. She gave Thea Lina a _goddaughter_ ," she said the word as though it were something magical. "She gave Grandad, Grans, Papouli, Ya-Ya and Grandma another granddaughter to love. We all love her, Soph, because she loved _you."_

Sophie released her hold on Charming and flipped around, burying her face in her mother's chest. For several minutes she allowed herself to be sad, to miss her other Mommy, while her new Mommy rubbed her back and every once in a while rocked her gently.

"Mommy?" she finally ventured.

"Yes, sweet girl?" Laura answered, her hand continuing to soothe.

"Do you think my Mommy got presents in Heaven today?" The heartbreakingly innocent question left Laura blinking her eyes.

"I think," she answered slowly, considering her words with care, "That every time your Mommy sees you smile, you give her the only the present she really wants: To know that you're happy." Sophie leaned back to look up at Laura.

"You think she sees me?"

"I do," Laura promised. "I believe there are people that are never meant to leave us. And your Mommy, Soph? You'll always have her with you. You were everything she loved most in the entire world. She'll always be watching over you." She brushed Sophie's hair back from her forehead. "I have an idea." She widened her eyes for affect. "Why don't you and I close our eyes, and on the count of three we'll wish your Mommy a Merry Christmas together, hmmm? Close your eyes, sweet girl." She waited until Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, then closed her own. "Ready?" She felt, rather than saw, Sophie's nod. "One… two… three…"

"Merry Christmas, Mommy," Sophie whispered aloud.

"Merry Christmas, Clarissa."

 _And thank you for entrusting us with your remarkable daughter,_ Laura added silently.


	12. February 1992 - 4 years old

**_A/N: This story is double the 1500 words I try to keep them at. Blame... chibijem :)_**

* * *

 _February 1, 1992_

Remington moved about the bedroom quietly, pulling a cerulean knit sweater on over top of his white oxford then affixing a watch to his wrist. The sound of the bed sheets behind of him rustling reached him first, then the sound of Laura's sleep deepened voice as she sat up and drew her hands through her hair.

"While you're running your errands this morning, I need you to stop by Kmart and pick up each of the girls a couple of packages of white tights. They're down to one decent pair a piece." He didn't bother to suppress his groan of dismay. Her natural aversion to shopping designated him as the primary purchaser in the household. While he didn't mind – in fact enjoyed it for the most part – there were a few exceptions, such as visits to the so called super stores where customers were often unpleasant and service deplorable.

"Aw," he openly complained.

"It's a dirty job, Mr. Steele, but somebody's got to do it," she replied with not the least bit of empathy. "However, I'd be happy to do it in exchange for you taking the girls to the dentist Wednesday…"

"How many pairs a piece should I pick up?" She smiled beatifically at him.

"A half dozen each should do."

While it had seemed easy pickings at the time, Kmart over the dentist, by the end of their short foray into the store, he had come to question if the dentist would have been the lesser of the two evils.

Kmart had, of course, _conveniently_ arranged for the children's clothing department to sit directly across the aisle from the toy section in an attempt to exploit the wallets of parents everywhere. Had he not been one of those parents, he would have likely applauded the marketing ploy, but given it was his wallet they were attempting to empty, well…

And on this day he paid, although not in the form of money.

The girls had galloped across the aisle to ooh-and-ah over the selection of Barbies, Barbie accessories, and dolls. He'd kept one eye upon them while tossing the requested dozen pair of white tights into the shopping basket he carried, then with thoughts of having to return to the retail jungle any time soon, tossed another dozen pairs in varying colors into his basket as well. When he walked over to gather the girls, Sophie stood clutching a box tightly to her chest, her large green eyes looking up at him with hope shining in them.

"What have you there, a thaisce?" he inquired.

Turning the box around to face him, she showed off the pretty Barbie in an emerald green evening gown.

"May I have her, please?" she asked quietly.

It was a first for Sophie, to ask for anything unless the girls were specifically instructed to find themselves a little treat, and he was sorely tempted to give in. But, events the week following Christmas came roaring back to his mind.

The girls had arrived home after Saturday morning errands with several new Barbie outfits. He'd nearly scampered back out the door given the look Laura had leveled on him and throughout the afternoon he'd gnawed nervously on a thumbnail, waiting for the explosion to come. Oh, he enjoyed her bits of pique – in truth often nudged her towards them – but prolonged silence always meant dire consequences to come. Sure enough, that night, in a cool, calm voice, she made herself abundantly clear.

Sidling up to him in the kitchen as he'd made dinner, she'd wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mr. Steele, the girls are constantly being inundated with _stuff_ from our families and friends. I believe we've previously agreed, we don't want our children growing up spoiled and believing they're entitled. If I'm correct in this nod your head." Warily he did just that. "Since you seem unable to resist the temptation to buy their adoration, I'm going to make it simple for you: The next time the girls come home with anything they do not need for survival, you are going to find yourself in time out for a _month_ on the couch."

Well, she'd made her point, handily. So now, he took the box containing the coveted Barbie from Sophie's arms and placed it back on the shelf.

"Mommy has made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that there will be no… treats," he said for lack of a better word, "Except on holidays and special occasions and your Da," he tweaked her nose, "Doesn't wish to spend a month in time out. Perhaps for your birthday, Sophie Bird. After all, it's not terribly long from now. So, Little Ladies Steele, let's buy your tights and get home before our groceries spoil, eh?"

To his infinite shock, she'd yanked the box down off the shelf again, wrapping her arms around it.

"Please?" she tried again.

"Not today, Sophie," he answered firmly. Then another stunning event, when he'd reached for the toy, she'd stepped back away from him, shaking her head. When he stepped to her and again took away the toy, she let out a wail he'd only heard the likes of from Olivia when in the midst of a temper tantrum.

"Please! Please!" she screeched, her voice growing louder. She became more hysterical with each word spoken.

"Sophia, that's enough of that now," he told her sternly. She only grew all the louder, drawing disapproving and concerned looks from customers and staff alike. He barely noticed Olivia tugging on the leg of his pants.

"But Da—"

"Stay out of this, Olivia Elena," he warned. Glaring at him, she clamped her mouth closed. When her Mommy or Da used her full name it meant big trouble to come if she didn't listen.

Not knowing what else to do, Remington set his basket down on the floor, plucked his wailing daughter up, grabbed Olivia's hand then walked through the store and out the door. By the time he'd pulled the Explorer onto their driveway, Sophia's fit had reduced to sporadic sniffles. When they entered the house, Remington pointed a finger towards the stairs.

"Sophia, go to your room until your mother and I can talk, then one of us will be up to speak with you," he ordered. Head hanging, still sniffling, she did as she was told. Olivia made to follow her, then was brought up short by her Da's firm words. "Olivia, you may go anywhere you wish downstairs, but your sister will go to her room alone, understood?" Livvie's lip puffed out, unhappily.

"Yes, Da." She slunk away to the playroom.

Laura watched the entire scene from the couch where she sipped a cup of coffee. She waited until she was certain both girls were out of earshot before speaking.

"Should I ask?" He dragged a hand through his hair, and turned to face her. His anxiety was evident in the strain seen around his eyes. Standing, she picked up Holt and sat him down in his playpen with a few toys. "I'll help you get the groceries in and we'll talk…"

* * *

 _A week later…_

"She barely even looks at me, Laura," Remington fretted, as he paced the bedroom, "Let alone speaks to me. And now…" He halted in his tracks, back to her and rubbed a hand over his face, then scowled, still unused to the beard he was now sporting.

Laura stood up from where she'd been sitting on the side of the bed, and went to him. He'd first expressed his concerns to her three days past, and she'd kept a careful eye on the situation. Sophie had certainly never been disrespectful, doing as told, answering questions when asked, yet it was clear she was doing everything in her power to avoid her Da when she could. Laura's attempts to get their oldest daughter to speak with her went in vain, as Sophie was totally shut down when it came to the topic of her father and what had happened in that store. Then today, Sophie had refused to run Saturday morning errands with her father, something she and Livvie both looked forward to each week. But tonight had proved the blow that had left him thoroughly gutted.

They'd gone through their nightly bedtime routine: Prayers, story, then goodnights. Remington had been unable to hide his injury when he'd leaned down to kiss Sophie goodnight and she had turned away from him before pulling her sheet as high as she could and plopping a thumb in her mouth.

"She's not talking to me about what's upset her either," she commiserated in frustration. Tapping a single finger to her lips, her eyes widened and she stood up. "I got it."

With those three words she disappeared from the room as he spun on his heel and watched her depart, wondering what had gotten into Laura now. He found out soon enough, as she walked back into the room, hand-in-hand with a still quite awake Olivia. Leading her to the couch, Laura took a seat then patted the place next to her, indicating Livvie should sit as well.

"Mr. Steele?" Laura called to him, with a pointed look at the seat on the other side of Olivia. Somewhat reluctantly, he joined his wife and child. Once he was seated, Laura turned to their daughter. "Livvie, your Da and I are very proud of what a wonderful sister you are to Sophie." Livvie beamed under the praise and squirmed closer to her father. "Sophie has been very lucky to have you to talk to and to share her secrets with. Normally neither your Da nor I would ask what Sophie has spoken to you about, but right now we are very worried about her. Do you understand?"

"'Cause Sophie's sad?" Livvie asked with a tilt of her had.

"Yes, exactly. And there are some times, not very often, that keeping someone's secrets can make things worse. I think that this is one of those times. So, I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I need you to be honest because you are not hurting Sophie but helping her. Do you understand?" Livvie nodded her head solemnly in response to her mother's serious tone.

"Yes, Mommy." Laura's eyes lifted to Remington and saw his discomfort at asking their daughter to 'sell out' her sister. She winced apologetically, then returned her focus to her daughter.

"Livvie, why was Sophie so upset about that Barbie when you went to the store with Da last week?" Livvie bit her lip, clearly resistant to answering, but Laura's steady, expectant gaze left her shoulders slumping.

"It looked like her other Mommy." Remington lifted his hand and held it to his mouth, feeling more than a little guilty. He hadn't even looked.

"So because Da didn't buy her the Barbie she's still sad?" Laura speculated, although it seemed absurd Sophie would still be that upset, and growing more so by the day.

"No," Olivia shook her head.

"Then what is making Sophie so unhappy?" Laura pressed. Livvie stared at her mother for a long minute, then turned away from her and climbed onto Remington's lap.

"Da?"

"Yes, a stór?" Reaching up, she gave his beard a tug.

"Why do you have a hairy face?" Remington looked at Laura with exasperation. They'd learned long ago that when it came to Livvie, she often took side roads when they spoke with her, and should they not address the question at hand, it would take that much longer to find out the information they were seeking. He sighed, and gave the question some thought for it was a complex answer for a four-year-old to understand.

"Well," he began, drawing out the word, "Right now Mommy and I have a job where it is important people don't recognize me. The beard helps disguise me, like a costume." Livvie gave the beard another tug.

"Like at Hawoween?" Laura resisted the urge to correct her, lest they take another fork in the road.

"Exactly," Remington agreed. Livvie gave his words serious thought, absently tugging the beard again. Her eyes lit up when an idea came to her.

"Can you take off your costume?"

"It would be quite difficult," he answered honestly. "Do you not like this one?" She looked him, sighed, and shook her head.

"You look like the mean man and yelled at Sophie," she told him despondently. Laura sat up a little straighter.

"I didn't yell at Sophie," he disagreed. "I merely told her _very firmly_ —"

"Come on, Livvie. Let's get you back to bed," Laura announced, abruptly standing and holding out her hand.

Remington bounded to his feet to pace some more as Laura and Livvie left the room. The moment Laura reentered the room, he spun around and pointed a finger in her direction, before she even had a chance to shut the door.

"I did _not_ yell at Sophie, Laura!" he protested vehemently.

"Castoro, Remington," Laura jumped in before he further defended himself. "The beard reminds Sophie of Castoro." He gave her a stunned, disbelieving look. "Livvie didn't say a mean man, she said 'the mean man.' You have similar builds, you both have dark hair, and now the beard…" She held up a hand and dropped it. "He allowed her to have very little, you refused to allow her to have the Barbie—"

"Because you made it very clear what the ramifications would be should I continue to indulge the children," he retorted, feeling like a man trapped. "I—" She held up a hand again, this time to stop him.

"I know what I said, and how it plays into everything that's happened," she interrupted. "Neither one of us could have anticipated Sophie finding a Barbie that reminded her of Clarissa, although both of us should have realized that for her to ask for anything at all is so out of character that we should have paid closer attention as to the reason why." With those words, she claimed her own part of the guilt in the series of events that had brought them here. "And since Sophie is so undemanding, so… yielding… you've never had reason to be cross with her. The doll, the beard, the confrontation…" she summarized, allowing him to come to his own conclusion.

He turned and stormed off to the bathroom. She followed quickly on his heels, then stood in the doorway as he yanked open a drawer and tossed scissors, electric shaver and his razor on the counter.

"What are you doing?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Laura, I don't give a bloody damn if you have to glue a beard to my face each morning," he declared vehemently, as he unbuttoned his shirt then tossed it on the counter, "But case or no case this beard is coming off! I won't have my daughter being afraid in her own home!"

"I can't say I disagree. We'll figure out what to do about your 'costume' tomorrow."

"And I tell you what else," he continued, no less calm, "After I'm done, I'm going to that sodding store and buying that bloody Barbie."

"No, you aren't," she refuted, calmly but firmly. "Regardless of how upset Sophie is, she did misbehave and we don't reward that type of behavior in this household." She sighed deeply. "Sometime this week we'll pick it up and put it away for her birthday." With a sigh to match her own, his anger fled and his shoulders slumped. Leaning forward and pressing his hands against the counter, he looked at her in the mirror.

"I never want to see her look at me that way again, Laura." She nodded her head in understanding. She walked up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her face against his back.

"I know. We'll talk to Sophie in the morning… together."

* * *

Laura put Holt in the playpen downstairs, then turned to Lena, who'd arrived for Sunday morning breakfast before she departed for Mass.

"Lena, would you mind keeping an eye on Livvie and Holt while Sophie and I step outside for a minute?" Laura requested. Lena, having already been filled in by her brother, nodded her head.

"Of course," she easily agreed.

"Livvie, when we come in you, Sophie and Da can start breakfast. We won't be long."

"Okay, Mommy," Livvie replied, already kneeling at the coffee table and opening the box of crayons and coloring book Lena had waiting for her.

Outside, Laura sat down on a chaise and patted the cushion next to her.

"Come sit with me, sweet girl," she encouraged her eldest daughter. When Sophie silently sat, Laura turned towards her and took one of her hands in hers. "Soph, last week at the store, why was that Barbie so important to you?" Sophie maintained her silence but her brows pinched together and eyes welled. Laura stroked a hand along the side of her little girl's head. "Is it because she reminded you of your Mommy?" she pressed, quietly. With that question, the damn broke and Sophie threw herself into her mother's arms, as great, gulping sobs racked her tiny body. Laura wrapped an arm tightly around the child and held the back of the little blonde head with a hand as tears dampened the shoulder of her blouse. "Oh, Soph," she crooned, rocking her.

Laura waited out the storm, holding and rocking Sophie, until her heaving sobs diminished to damp hiccups. Easing Sophie back down beside her, Laura thumbed away the wetness on her cheeks. With a pair of fingers beneath the chin, she tilted Sophie's head back until a pair of tear-brightened green eyes looked at her.

"Sophie, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions and I want you to be honest with me. Did you tell your Da why you wanted the Barbie so badly?" Sophie's lips quivered and her eyes threatened to well again.

"No," she said in a tiny voice.

"Did your Da yell at you, or simply tell you very firmly 'no'?" Sophie chewed on her lower lip, as a fresh tear escaped past her lashes. "Sophie, I need an answer."

"Da said no," she whispered.

"That wasn't very fair to your Da, do you think?" Laura reasoned. "He had no idea why you wanted the Barbie and instead of telling him, you embarrassed both him and yourself by having a tantrum in the store. If you find yourself in the same situation in the future, you need to use your words and tell either your Da or me if I'm with you, why something is so important to you. Can you promise me you'll do that?"

"Yes," Sophie answered in a tremulous voice, her lip protruding further at the gentle scolding. Laura beckoned with a hand behind Sophie's back, for Remington to come join them. Pushing off from where he leaned against the rail of the terrace sipping a cup of tea, he walked their way.

"Now this is a _very_ important question, Soph," Laura told her gently, wiping away another tear. "Your Da and I have been very worried about you this last week and last night you hurt your father's feeling, quite badly. Why are you so upset with him?" Sophie sucked her lips in and her eyes widened saucer-like, as her chest began to rise and fall in panic. "Is it because your Da's beard reminds you of the 'mean man'?" Laura's heart broke when Sophie began violently trembling and her eyes welled over again.

"I… don't… want… the me-… mean man," she gasped around her sobs. Laura stood, and pulled Sophie up into her arms.

"Oh, sweet girl, your Da and I will never, _ever,_ let the 'mean man' near you again," she vowed, fiercely, holding Sophie tightly to her as the little girl clenched her back and wrapped her legs around her middle. "It was just a beard, Soph. It doesn't make your Da like the 'mean man.' Your Da would do anything to make you feel safe and happy. Do you know that? Hmmm? So much so that the minute we knew what had you so upset, do you know what your Da did?" Behind Laura, Remington stooped down slightly so that he was at eye level with his daughter.

"I made the beard go away," Remington announced softly. Sophie's head jerked up and she stared at her father through tear blurred eyes. "Come to your Da, a thaisce…" He reached for his little girl as Laura swiveled slightly to give him easier access. "Come… come…"

When he took Sophie in his arms, she didn't turn away from him this time, but to him – reminding him very much of a woman who'd once been afraid to do the same, but had learned in time. When Sophie wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, holding on for dear life as she cried, he finally felt a small bit of peace for the first time in a week.

"I'm going to check on Livvie and Holt," Laura announced softly. Father and daughter needed some time alone.

It would be months before the Steele's realized this was the turning point for Sophie, for Laura's words and Remington's deed finally cemented, in her young mind, that she was safe and always would be with her Mommy, Da and her new family.


	13. May 1992 - 5 years old

_May 1992 – 5 years old_

Olivia barreled out of the dance studio, running full tilt for Laura.

"Sophie did it, Mommy!" Olivia announced excitedly. "She got the lead in the recital again!" Laura peered through the glass window that allowed parents to watch their children during class and observed the dance teacher, Mme. Granderson, stoop down to eye level with Sophie. The little girl listened intently to her teacher, nodding her head in understanding every now and again.

"That's wonderful, baby," Laura answered, hugging Olivia against her side.

"I'm not a baby!" Livvie protested indignantly with a stomp of her foot.

Laura cast her eyes heavenward, and drew in a long breath. Four-and-a-half years of referring to her firstborn as such was a habit not easily broken, no matter that child's demands - which had started about three weeks past and hadn't relented.

"I know you're not, ba—" Her words broke off and she hurriedly corrected, "Livvie Bee. You're a big girl, preparing to start Kindergarten." She forced an upbeat note into her voice, one that she didn't feel. _Where has time gone?_ she wondered, silently… and not for the first time.

Her attention focused on the door when it opened and Sophie appeared, walking straight to her mother's side.

"Hi, Mommy," Sophie greeted.

"Hi, sweet girl. Are you ready to go?" Laura asked, as she smoothed back a couple of long strands of strawberry blonde hair that had come loose from her daughter's braid.

"Yes." That was all, nothing more, not that Laura was surprised. Sophie wasn't prone to making announcements about her accomplishments. Thank goodness for Livvie, who was only too happy to praise her sister's accomplishments.

Slinging her purse strap over her shoulder, Laura took one of each of her daughters' hands in hers. She made no mention of the news until the Explorer was pointed towards their home just outside of Redondo Beach.

"Soph?" Laura's eyes connected with Sophie's in the rearview mirror. "Livvie told me you were awarded the lead in the spring recital." Her eldest child's face lit up and a wide smile spread across her face, as she nodded happily.

"Mme. Granderson said I'll have to practice extra. Will you help me?"

"Well, you know _I will_ ," Laura replied, as though it was a foregone conclusion… and it was.

"Mme. Granderson said my… my…" she floundered, trying to remember the correct word. "What do I wear?"

"A tutu?" Laura suggested, then saw Sophie shake her head when her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. "Costume?" She tried again.

"My costume!" Sophie nodded her head eagerly. "Mme. Granderson said my costume would be purple!" the little girl announced in a way to suggest that was the most exciting news on the evening.

"Purple?!" Livvie clapped her hands together, happily. "That's your favorite color!"

"I know!" Sophie nodded, then her eyes widened. "And Mme. Granderson said your… your…"

"Costume," Laura provide from the front seat.

"Costume," Sophie nodded again, "Will be _pink!"_

"Pink's my favorite color!" Livvie cried out with glee.

"I know!" Sophie replied. "And Mommy?"

"Yes, Soph?"

"Mme. Granderson said to tell you I need white ballet slippers and white tights," Sophie informed her mother.

"Well you, Sophie Steele, are going to make Da's night," Laura announced. "Not only will he be _so proud_ of you for getting the lead, but now he has an excuse to go shopping!"

The two little girls giggled at the announcement, already old enough to understand their Da enjoyed shopping, particularly for clothes… and when it meant spoiling his little girls. Silently, she listened to the girls' chatter all the way home.

* * *

Three-and-a-half weeks later, on a Saturday mid afternoon, Laura took her seat in the high school auditorium where the dance school's spring recital was held each year. Remington had come armed and loaded, with a video camera _and_ camera slung over his shoulder. She was fairly certain if he was offered every piece of Royal Lavulite in existence to wipe the proud smile from his face, he wouldn't be able to do it. After laying the two dozen tea roses Remington had bought at her feet, she turned in her seat, and reached to take Holt from Frances's lap. Facing forward again, she reached for Remington's hand and gave it a soft squeeze. Sophie and Livvie had been calm and collected when they'd gone backstage, as though performing in front a sizeable audience was a daily event for them. Their father, however, was anything but calm, and was battling to at least appear collected. Given the way he was gnawing at his thumbnail, he had more than enough nervous energy for both his girls.

Frances leaned in and spoke near Laura's ear.

"Donald said if Remington will pass him the camera, he'd be happy to take pictures so Remington can focus on video'ing." Laura nodded, and leaned in to say as much to Remington in a low voice. Shortly, Laura passed the camera to Frances, who handed it to Donald.

These events were family affairs… _large_ family affairs. Frances, Donald, Mindy and Laurie Beth sat to Laura's right, and to their right sat Bernice and Jason with a squirming Bo between them.

In the seat directly behind Remington sat Mildred, who currently had a hand meant to calm lying on Remington's shoulder. Next to her was her husband of five months, Rusty. Beside them? Melina and Mirabella, followed by the bulk of the Agency family: Zach, Brandon, BB and Marvin. Absent: Thomas, Catherine and Abigail, all unable to break prior commitments.

One hour and eleven minutes into the recital – with all eight older classes for ballet, tap and jazz having finished their performances – the curtains opened to reveal Sophie posed in fifth position, with the spotlight shining upon her.

"Phi!" Holt yelled while clapping his hands with glee.

Laura automatically reached for Remington's hand, her hand grasping nothing but air, having forgotten he'd disappeared the second Livvie and Sophie's class was announced as coming up next.

Her eyes misted over as she watched her girls perform. Sophie was eye-drawing, not because of her differently colored costume, but because of her precise execution of each move. It was clear she was a little girl who took ballet seriously and practiced often. And Livvie? Livvie was natural grace in motion, a child who danced for no other reason than the joy of it: Not as polished, yet absolutely captivating. And when the dance was complete, Laura was left blinking her eyes when, after the final curtsy, Livvie ran to Sophie, hugging her tight.

At least she wasn't alone in her emotions, with Frances sniffling beside her, Mildred behind. Then there was the father of those girls. Returning to his seat when the performance was over, Remington took Laura's hand in his, gripping it firmly, left fully tongue-tied and damp-eyed by overwhelming pride.

Three performances later, Laura turned Holt over to her sister, and she and Remington made their way backstage, the recital officially over. Laura holding the two bouquet of roses, Remington standing with a hand pressed to mouth, they scanned to hoards of children and parents looking for a pair of strawberry-blonde and raven haired heads. The girls spotted them first, weaving hand-in-hand through the throngs to get to their Mommy and Da. Laura stooped down and held out the roses.

"From Grandad and Grans," she informed the girls, a hand stroking each of their sweat-dampened heads. She barely had time to do that much, before Remington swept both girls up in a singular bear hug, leaving their small feet dangling far from the ground as they giggled.

"Sheer perfection, a thaisce," he praised, bussing Sophie on her cheek. "Absolutely beautiful, a stòr," he pronounced, bussing Livvie on her cheek as well. Sophie wriggled down to return to Laura's side, while Livvie wrapped her arms around Remington's neck, content with where she was.

"Did I do it right, Mommy?" Sophie inquired. No one was more critical of herself than Sophie Steele. Laura leaned down, bracing herself with palms pressed to thighs.

"You were _perfect_ ," Laura assured with a warm smile. "The lines on your arabesque were long, your foot pointed on tendu, and your arms were graceful on your port de bras. You should be _very_ proud of yourself, Soph." Sophie beamed at her mother and hugged her roses to her chest.

That evening, after the children were long asleep, Remington and Laura shut their bedroom door – the official signal to the children they must knock and wait for someone to answer – then stole away to the bathroom to share a long, hot soak together. In a reversal of their norm, Laura drew Remington backwards to rest his head on her shoulder, as she stroked his skin with a sudsy washcloth.

"I still have a hard time believing it, love, even after all these years," he shared, thoughtfully.

"Believing what?" she wondered, as she dragged the cloth over his chest then a shoulder.

"I thought a child…" he lifted a hand, holding a finger upright to enunciate his point "… _maybe_ two children, at most, perhaps we wouldn't bungle that too badly. Yet, here we are with three and so far I've seen no indications that we've marred them for life, or worse, have permanently broken them."

"They seem whole and happy to me," she laughed, softly. "Some might even say they're thriving."

"That's the part that floors me, Laura," he said in a tone which suggested she should have known, "How? How have we managed not to make a mess of it?' Her hand stilled as she gave the question some thought, then began to massage his chest with the rag again when she spoke.

"Maybe it's for no other reason than what we've spoken of before: We complement each other as parents, much as we do partners," she shrugged. "I lay down the rules, you break them. I set a budget, you don't follow it. I establish a schedule, you ignore it… unless it suits you otherwise." His warm laugh was the response she'd been looking for. "And even if we dropped a ball, look at how many people we have surrounding us that would pick it up: Your father and Catherine, Mildred and Rusty, Melina, Frances and Donald, Elena and Marcos, not to mention Zeth and Christos." He nodded his head and fell silent for a spell.

"The girls were extraordinary, Laura," he finally spoke. A wide smile lit her face again.

"Yes, they were," she agreed. Taking the cloth from her hand, he dropped it into the water, then turned until his back rested against the opposite side of the tub. With a tug of her hand, he encouraged her to straddle his lap, which she did with a bemused smirk.

"But no one is more extraordinary than their mother," he hummed, stroking her back and hips. She slid her arms around his neck and her fingers toyed with the ends of his hair.

"You sweet talking Irishman, you," she teased in a passable Irish accent. "Needing a bit of loving tonight, are you?" A hand whispered over his shoulder, then paused to caress his neck. A hand glided up her back to tangle in her tresses, as a pair of brows raised.

"From you? Always."

With a smile in her eyes, she bent her head down and sealed her lips to his…


End file.
